Lowell festival honoring Jack Kerouac shows enduring strength of writing, way of life

By Chris Bergeron, Correspondent

Monday

Oct 9, 2017 at 3:00 PMOct 12, 2017 at 10:56 AM

The road Jack Kerouac glorified in novels of high octane lyricism began in1922 in a two-family house in the working class neighborhood known as Centralville in Lowell.

The ecstatic, mournful journeys he chronicled in “On The Road” and other novels propelled Kerouac 47 years later to Edson Cemetery where he rests by a new headstone bearing the epitaph “The Road Is Life.”

For longtime Lowell resident John Coffey, “Kerouac has always been a hero to this city as a blue collar kid who became a famous writer.”

Now in his 60s, Coffey recalled a high school teacher encouraged him to read “On The Road” and after finishing his military service, Coffey drove to the West Coast with a friend “because I wanted to see things."

But has the road Kerouac hitchhiked alone or drove with his mad-for-kicks soulmate Neal Cassady in the 1940s and 1950s changed beyond recognition from Main Street, USA with saintly hobos, cool jazz men and "hot chicks" into a six-lane superhighway full of RVs and 18-wheelers without a drop of romantic?

Throughout the Lowell Celebrates Kerouac (LCK) festival last week celebrating the 60th anniversary of "On the Road," admirers shared memories of Kerouac’s impact on their lives and tales of the Beat Generation, the coterie of writers and poets such as Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs and Gregory Corso who rebelled against Eisenhower-era conformism by celebrating sexual liberation, psychedelic drugs and Eastern spirituality.

They packed author John Leland’s lecture “Why Kerouac Matters,” took tours of the writer’s old haunts and attended musical performances by multi-instrumentalist David Amram who accompanied Kerouac on his sax during Greenwich Village poetry readings.

But the Framingham resident wondered what thrills new generations would experience crossing America in “those new cars that drive themselves.”

“I don’t know what it’ll be like for future generations,” said Crane.

Author Andre Dubus III also worries whether young readers who grew up immersed in YouTube, Instagram and Snapchat will miss the flowing passion of Kerouac’s written words.

The first writer-in-residence at UMass/Lowell’s Kerouac Center and now a professor of creative writing, Dubus also worries “too many young people romanticize Kerouac’s self-destructive tendencies” and miss his exuberance for the freedom of travel, music and deep friendships.

“We’re sadly heading to a more visual culture than a literate one,” said the award-winning author of “House of Sand and Fog.” “I do see people reading but worry that sustained internet use raises the fear it’s easier to watch a video than read a book.”

But not for all young people.

After Leland’s keynote lecture, Jordyn Haime, a 19-year-old freshman at University of New Hampshire, said Kerouac’s celebration of individuality and freedom from societal restrictions still appeals to readers her age.

Though objecting to the misogyny often characteristic of Beat Generation writers, Haime said she remains drawn to Kerouac’s “timeless” style of stream-of-consciousness writing.

Author and writing teacher Jay Atkinson has heard similar praise for Kerouac from his students at Boston University.

While some “never heard of him” until taking his class on Kerouac and the Beats, he said many appreciate his honesty, joyful descriptions of everyday life and openness to diverse people and cultures.

“Students say Kerouac wrote about being young and hopping a freight car 60 years ago in ways they can understand today,” said Atkinson, author of seven books including “Paradise Road: Jack Kerouac’s Lost Highway and My Search for America.” “One kid told me Kerouac ‘pities the human condition.’ To them, he’s not a condescending white guy.”

For fans of all ages at the LCK festival, Kerouac remains an inspiring amalgam of a literary guru, sage confidant and adventurous road buddy.

Like pilgrims, they visited his grave to leave whiskey bottles, joints and letters addressed to “Jack” by his new headstone. Kerouac died in Florida in 1969 at the age of 47 from internal bleeding due to cirrhosis of the liver.

At the grave, Gustavo Morrello said Kerouac remains popular in his native Argentina because his vivid descriptions of wild cross-country drives with Cassady have the timeless appeal of Homer’s epic, “The Odyssey,” about “the search for self-discovery” and new experiences.

“There’s always going to be free-willed weirdos who’ll pick up a Kerouac novel and be moved,’’ she said.

Other fans gathered at Kerouac Park on Bridge Street Saturday morning to share their own road stories inspired by his Kerouac’s novels that celebrated his pursuit with Cassady of the indefinable “It” of pure ecstasy.

Mike Wurm, a Lowell resident for 30 years, said Kerouac’s writing spurred him “to hit the road in my senior years” and move to San Francisco.

Visiting the park in a shirt with Kerouac’s picture, he said, “I believe Jack’s spirit will continue to live on through his words that send you searching for your own truth.”

Now 86, Amram declared “Jack Kerouac is more relevant than ever.”

A classical composer, conductor and author, he observed Kerouac’s writings have been translated into more than 30 languages including Chinese, because the universal human huger for freedom, adventure and spirituality.

“Jack told me once, ‘I want people to feel like I’m speaking to them.’” said Amram. “His words are like the paintings in the Lascaux caves – timeless.”

As the sun set over the cemetery, Cody Clark left a worn paperback copy of “On The Road” by Kerouac’s original grave marker that read “He Honored Life.”

The bearded 42-year-old software engineer from Boston said he’d followed Kerouac’s call to mountaintops in Colorado, the San Francisco coast and the desert in the Middle East but struggles today to find time to satisfy his wanderlust.

“People don’t even realize it but Jack lives and will live in the hearts of generations to come,’’ said Clark. “Sure, there are new digital distractions and self-driving cars. But Kerouac has seeped into the DNA of America and still burns in the spirit and hunger to live that exists in every generation.”